An Apostolic Reflection

Mike arrived to the Emergency Department at St. Agnes by ambulance after a car accident. He was strapped to a back board, and was bleeding from a small cut on his face. I walked into the room, as I had to so many others that day, introduced myself as Sr. Nancy, the physician assistant, and told him I’d take good care of him. He answered me, panicked, with “My son isn’t breathing.” - not what I expected to hear at all.

As I began to assess Mike’s injuries, I gestured to the tech who was assisting me to find out about the son. After examining Mike, I knew he needed to have some x-rays done. I assured him that he would be okay and that I’d find out about his son. As Mike was being wheeled over for the x-rays, the tech returned to tell him that his son was stable and doing well. Mike returned from x-ray and as I was looking at the films, the tech came to me and said, “Mike’s son is okay and was discharged. Is it okay if he comes over to see his father?” Immediately I said “Yes”, knowing that this was better medicine than I could possibly provide him – to know that his son was alive and well.

Mike’s wife and mother (who were not in the accident) had arrived by now, so they and Mike’s 8-year-old son walked into Mike’s room. Mike was overjoyed to see them all. I came into the room with the news that the x-rays were fine and that Mike would be going home soon. There was still the matter of the cut on Mike’s forehead that needed to be addressed with a few stitches. After a few minutes, I asked the family to wait in the waiting room while I stitched Mike up.

Mike and I were alone, and I was setting up the equipment to sew him up. He said to me, “Sister, can I tell you something?” “Sure” I answered, as I started to stitch him up. He said, “My grandmother died last week.” I had no idea where this was going. “I gave the eulogy at her funeral and I told this story. When I was 4 years old, my grandmother and I were in a car accident. We were taken by ambulance to this hospital. They put me in a room and took my grandmother somewhere else. I was so afraid – thinking that she was going to die – that I started to cry. The next thing I know this Sister came into the room and she held my hand and told me it was going to be alright – and I calmed down. My grandmother and I were fine and went home that same day. When I was wheeled in here today, I was so afraid. I thought my son was dead. Then you walked in to the room and said you were Sister Nancy, and immediately I knew that everything would be alright.”

It was very humbling to me to hear that story – one that meant so much to him that he had related it 40 years after it happened at his grandmother’s funeral. I knew that it wasn’t merely my presence that calmed him down that day – it was the memory of that Sister from 40 years before that really made the difference. Often, our ministry of presence and caring is so much more important than any works that we do. In my mind, I could picture the long blue line of Daughters of Charity that had come before me – and I stand on their shoulders – from St. Louise, to St. Catherine, to St. Elizabeth Ann, to the Sister who comforted Mike 40 years before, to me who happened to be in the right place in the right time.